


Saving Grace

by TheKaylester



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKaylester/pseuds/TheKaylester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen may have survived Uldred's uprising, but he is paying a heavy price for it. On the road to the Greenfell chantry Cullen comes across something that helps him cope with his memories of the uprising and makes him into the man he needs to be to survive what fate has planned for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving Grace

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey guys, this is my very first DA piece that I have ever written, so please be gentle with me! On a serious (pfft, 'serious') note, this is a piece for the Cullenites 1,000 page celebration. Happy 1,000 pages guys! So without further ado, on with the show!

**Saving Grace**

Their screams echoed within his head. Helpless cries, pleas for mercy. They were given nothing,  _he_  had been given nothing. There was no chance of redemption for those mages, they had all turned to blood magic. No one could have resisted Uldred for that length of time.

_But you did_.

He curses her voice in his head. She had saved him, and yet he hated her for it. Why should he have lived whilst his fellow Templars, his  _friends_ , died? He had never seen the woman in his life before, nor any of her companions, but her voice still pervaded his thoughts, seeped into his mind. He sighed in frustration. He was no longer a naïve boy who had foolish infatuations. He had seen the damage that naivety had wrought upon his order and knew now that there was no room for leniency to be granted.

He looked up at the land around him. He was glad he was leaving the tower. The screams seemed even louder there, the nightmares more vivid. He could plainly see Bran's throat being sliced open right in front of him. He remembered the feeling of his blood spattering onto his face, dripping down and seeping into every pore. He could still taste it on his lips, followed by the sharp bite of the bile he hadn't even tried to hold back.

He heard a crack from behind him and, in his panic, almost impaled a poor boy who had been sent alongside several other Templars to escort him to the chantry at Greenfell. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, could feel their pity emanating from their gaze.

"What are you all looking at?!" he snapped, moving to return his sword to its sheath when one of the other Templars stepped forward.

"I think we'd all feel better if you didn't have to carry that sword Cullen. If we run into trouble I'll give it back to you, but you'll end up hurting someone and we can't deal with that right now after everything else." he said, his voice calm but commanding.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?! You know nothing, you have seen nothing! Where were you when Uldred was slaughtering our brothers? Hiding behind Greagoir's skirt?" Cullen sneered as he walked away from the group. He could make his own way to Greenfell, he didn't need to be watched over like an infant.

* * * * *

Cullen waited beneath the shade of a tree, watching the sun lower into the sky. He used to adore watching the day fade away to night, knowing that it meant he was one day closer to becoming a knight. Now all that came was a sense of dread, knowing that when he shut his eyes he would be able to hear the whispering of demons, taunting him, promising him everything he ever wanted if he just let go. Instead of the promise of a new day came the promise of a night even darker and more twisted than the nights before.

He sighed. He knew he shouldn't have been so snide with his fellow Templars. He was dangerous. He could very well have put an end to that boy's hopes of being a Templar, perhaps even his life. Maker, he would never have forgiven himself for that.

Perhaps taking some time out from his duties would be a good thing, allow him time to block out the constant agonised screaming he heard every time he tried to rest. He could dedicate his time to honing his skills. It was better than sitting around a chantry feeling sorry for himself.

Running a gloved hand across his face, his thoughts wandered back to the men he had left behind. He could see them a bit further out from the hill he sat on. He should probably get back to them, apologise for being such a pain. But they just couldn't understand the horrors that he had seen in the tower. Even worse, they didn't  _want_  to know. Cullen groaned in frustration. No one would be able to understand unless they had witnessed it.

As he pushed himself up from the ground, grabbing his sword and his backpack, he began to feel like a dog returning to its master with its tail between its legs. Sweet Andraste, he had acted like a child.

He walked down the hill, careful to mind the stones jutting out of the earth. One moment of distraction by something white, almost luminescent in the dullness of the night sent him face first down the steep hillside with a loud yell, his head colliding with the hilt of his sword as he threw his arms forward to protect himself. The next thing he knew was darkness.

* * * * *

Cullen groaned. The throbbing in his head just wouldn't stop and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He cursed himself over and over. He must have been out for a while now.

"Maker's breath, it feels like I've been hit with a maul." No one was around. Well, no one he could sense anyways. They must not have heard him shouting out.

Cullen lay on the ground, his gloved hands covering his face. He was glad to get a moments peace from the thoughts that had constantly plagued his mind since the tower, though he just wanted the pain to stop.

When he finally felt the throbbing cease a little, he pushed himself up into a kneeling position. He felt around his head for any injuries and, after a few moments, was glad to see that he only had some bruising. Severe, painful, but nothing lasting.

He waited a few moments before pushing himself onto his feet, testing to see if any damage had befallen on his limbs. Thankfully there was only a slight ache, though he suspected it would be worse if he pushed himself too hard. Looks like he was going to have to withhold training for a few days after reaching the Greenfell chantry. Whilst he tried to brush most of the dirt off his clothes, something caught his eye. He could see a faint glowing in the distance. It must have been the thing that had distracted him.

Grabbing his sword which was almost hidden in the tall grass a few feet from him, he cautiously walked towards the mysterious…thing in the distance. He drew his sword from its sheathe as he stalked closer and closer. The glowing became brighter and brighter until he saw a flower. It was surrounded by tall grass and a variety of weeds. Cullen tied the sheathe of his sword to his belt and began pulling the grass back from the flower. He then began untangling the tendrils of the weeds that had wrapped themselves around the flower, holding it down beneath the overgrown grass.

Once he released the flower from their grasp, he was slightly disappointed that it remained glowing faintly in the shadows of the grass surrounding it. Taking one of his gloves off, he reached down with gentle, hesitant fingers and lifted the flower up into the light. It was beautiful and oddly familiar.

It stood at a decent height when he lifted it. Four long petals with a rather bright pink erupting from the centre faded into a bright white colour which was illuminated by the moonlight. Cullen remembered seeing this flower somewhere, but he couldn't remember where.

He knelt there for a while, studying the plant, tracing his fingers down its slender stem whilst holding it up in the other.

"By the Maker, you're beautiful." he muttered. Suddenly he remembered a picture from the book written by one of the older mages in the tower. What was her name? Ines? He remembered the picture of the flower, though it made no mention of the plant glowing at night. He whispered the name of it into the night.

"Andraste's Grace." he smiled as he caressed the flower's petals. These were supposed to be rare. He had never seen one out with the pictures and descriptions in that one book. It was a miracle that it managed to survive without the sun, being pulled down into the darkness. Cullen chuckled at the irony that was facing him. Despite the odds, this plant survived, just as he had.

Eventually he released the plant, standing up only to become suddenly tense again, his hand on the hilt of his sword, when he heard a small snap behind him. He slowly turned around, eyes trying to scan the darkness for any movement. Looking down Cullen saw that the flower he had held in his hand moments ago had snapped and was laying on the ground, its light slowly fading away.

He bent down and picked the plant up with trembling fingers, fearing he may bring further damage to the plant. He felt terrible. Perhaps he should have just left the plant alone, but then he would have felt terrible then as well. This plant had reminded him that he had walked back into the light. He pondered whether it was fate that had brought him to this breath-taking flower, whether he was meant to see that even as one emerges into the light, they can easily fall back into the darkness. He wouldn't let that happen to him. Never. Wandering back over to where he had fallen, he found his backpack with the contents still inside, though slightly worse for wear. Pulling out a journal, he slipped the flower inside and closed the book slowly, being sure to keep the book closed tight as he re-organised his backpack. It must have been fate that had brought him to this flower, he thought. He couldn't believe that he stumbled upon this flower by accident. Either way, the lesson that Cullen had learned was one he was not going to forget. Silently thanking the Maker and Andraste, he wandered towards the camp, the light in the distance guiding him along the way.


	2. Chapter 2

  The rain had come down suddenly, though they all saw the dark clouds edging closer to them in the distance a short while ago.  It was only a storm, but it had still been a rush to get all of the Templar’s armour and weapons back inside the chantry. 

  Cullen walked outside and began looking around for anything that may have been left out in the rain.  His fellow Templars, the mongrels that they were, had done it before and he certainly wasn’t going to let them forget again. 

  After a few minutes he had looked around all of the training dummies and benches that had been laid out for them to train on.  Just as he was about to enter the chantry, ready to escape the relentless rain and the thunder which seemed to have been growling at him as he searched the courtyard, a small object, propped up against a one of the pillars holding up the roof of the chantry, caught his eye.  As he walked closer, he saw that it was a small toy in the shape of a... rather disfigured person.  He knew that it must belong to one of the orphans being raised in the chantry.  Running over to it and holding it close to him to prevent it from getting even more wet, he rushed back inside, the mere thought of the fire warming him up.   

  Once inside Cullen walked to the room that the chantry Sisters had been kind enough to grant them for their stay and quickly changed from his soaked clothes, not wanting to catch an illness merely weeks before he was to depart for the Free Marches.  He walked over to the fire that was burning fiercely at the far end of the chantry, separated by two dividers.  Just as he was about to turn into the segregated space a chantry sister grasping the arm of a young girl tightly stepped out from the area.  From the stern words coming out of her mouth and the tears falling down the girl’s face he could guess she was berating the poor child for something.

  “You are always taking that thing outside, I told you that you’d lose it eventually.” the chantry sister snapped, pulling the girl along with her as she strode out from the dancing light of the fire. 

  “Please Sister, if I could just go outside-“ the girl squeaked before being cut off.

  “No!  You know you should take care of your things.  You’ll just have to get that thing in the morning.”

  When the chantry Sister made to go past Cullen, the girl looked up and, seeing the small, soggy figure in his hand pulled her arm their vice and stood shyly in front of Cullen. 

  “I-I think that’s my d-doll Ser.  Did you g-get her from outside?” Cullen looked down at the little girl, at a loss for what to do.  He hadn’t had any experience with children asides from those he grew up with.  Before he could answer the Sister grasped onto the child’s arm once more.  Swinging her around to face her and bending down so that her face was directly in front of the girl’s, she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Don’t waste his time girl.  He has much more important things to do than to look for your toy!” Cullen didn’t know where to look.  He didn’t think the girl was being too much trouble.

  “It’s of no consequence Sister, I found the doll outside whilst I was checking all the weapons and armour had been brought in.”  he said, hoping to break the atmosphere that had quickly thickened around him.  Kneeling down on one knee so that he was level with the girl’s face, he took her hand from the Sister’s and placed the doll in it.  A small smile slipped onto his face when he saw her hold it close to her.

  “Eurgh, you’re all wet Selly.” she muttered to the doll, holding it away from her shirt which now had a small wet patch on it. 

  “Here,” Cullen began, holding out his hand once more “I’ll sit her in front of the fire with me so she can dry out for a few hours.”

  “I can’t sleep without her though!” the girl whimpered, looking down at the doll.  Cullen sighed.  He had to keep his patience.  She was only a girl, most likely brought to the chantry after being born in the Circle, she didn’t know anything about the horrors of the world besides the occasional clip of the ear from the Sisters here.  She looked genuinely upset as well. 

  “What if I keep an eye on, erm, Selly by the fire for a few hours and slip her in with you when I head to bed?”  The girl’s eyes shot between the doll and his face.  He could feel her eyes gouging into him, trying to figure out whether he could be trusted with what was probably her most prized possession. 

  “Do you p-promise to keep her safe?” she asked him, her dark brown eyes looking sweetly up into his. 

  “I swear I shall keep Selly safe, on my honour as a Templar.”  Cullen said, bowing his head and giving her a small smile.  She gave him a smile before kissing her doll and handing it to him with a slight bow. 

  “Thank you Ser Cullen.  G’night!” she skipped off, leaving the chantry Sister to angrily scuttle after her.  Before entering the room where the rest of the orphans were sleeping, she stopped and waved at him.  He raised a hand awkwardly, giving her a final smile before the Sister dragged her into the room. 

  Cullen held the doll gingerly in his hand.  It seemed so small compared to what it looked like in the hands of the girl.  He walked into the room, cherishing the sudden warmth that rushed over him as he sat by the fire.  He ran a finger over the damp string on the dolls head, which seemed to be the hair of ‘Selly’.  He gave a low chuckle at the innocence of the girl.  It was refreshing now.  When he first arrived at Greenfell the mere sight of children simply smiling and laughing made him feel physically sick.  How could they not know the horrors of the world?  He felt as though he needed to tell them the horrors that they could face in life, the fact that the people they cherish the most in this life could be taken from them in the most brutal of ways. 

  He shuddered as he remembered those diseased thoughts.  Though the past weeks had soothed his need to save everyone from their own naivety, he would be lying to himself if he denied the fact that his dreams were still pervaded with images of those _beasts_. 

  When Cullen finally regained his thoughts he sat down in front of the fire, placing the doll down in front of the fire and taking care to keep it out of the reach of the flames.  A long sigh escaped his lips.  Would he ever be free from these nightmares?  Thunder growled at him from outside, as if warning him away from such thoughts.  He couldn’t afford to think like that.  He just had to take things one day at a time.  Training helped keep his thoughts ahead of him, as did the ache in his muscles which seemed to be a constant companion now.  He rested his head on his arm as he laid down on his side, looking into the flames of the fire.  They looked like they were dancing, beckoning him to come closer, to get as close to the heat as he could and disregard the fact the heat was scorching his skin.  He could almost feel the fingers of the flames dancing across his skin now.  They soothed the ache in his muscles that had refused to leave.  He could almost feel fingers working away at his skin, pushing away all of the terrors he had seen in his dreams the past weeks.  His eyes began to close as the dancing flames lulled him into a deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this was much shorter than I wanted it to be, but I mainly wanted to explore Cullen's mind in this one after he has been given some time to calm down. I have something good planned for the next one and I'm not quite sure how Cullen's going to react, so we'll just need to wait and see. I'm not sure when my next update will be. I have finished with my exams now but I still have a few things I need to sort out before I finish high school life, but I'll be sure to make the next chapter more lengthy than these two chapters have been. Have a nice day/night guys, g'night.


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